Zhong Ziyan suspected that Wei Hanyun’s extraordinary luck had already become the talk of Las Vegas’ casino circles.
Otherwise, there was no explanation for why the casino manager had rushed over so quickly after she won just two rounds.
The manager, speaking with a slight Spanish accent, put on a polite smile and subtly probed for information. Upon learning that the couple had evening plans and would only be staying at the casino for a few hours, he quietly let out a sigh of relief.
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Seriously, it’s just a couple hundred million dollars. How stingy.
"Las Vegas has many other unique casinos," the manager enthusiastically recommended. "Have you had the chance to visit them all? For example, XXX even has a live Cleopatra impersonation show you can watch."
The attempt to redirect them elsewhere wasn’t exactly subtle.
Their hotel reservation was booked until the day after tomorrow, and technically, they still had two days left of their honeymoon. Zhong Ziyan hadn’t yet decided what to do with Wei Hanyun the next day. She tapped her chin in thought for a few seconds until Wei Hanyun turned to her and said, "We’ll leave early tomorrow."
"Returning to China?" Zhong Ziyan assumed work had caught up with him.
"Silicon Valley," Wei Hanyun shook his head. "There’s something I need to take care of."
He could already guess that Zhong Ziyan had probably forgotten.
It wasn’t until that evening, when a private jet from London arrived carrying the black-and-gold One-77 and a slender young man, that Zhong Ziyan suddenly remembered—this was indeed a thing.
—Sheng Jiayan, Zhong Ziyan’s second cash cow.
His research on new materials required periodic consumption of californium, an expensive synthetic element whose supply channels were entirely controlled by Wei Hanyun.
One of the research institutes fully funded by Wei Hanyun was located in Silicon Valley.
"He can spend some time studying at the institute," Wei Hanyun explained. "He’ll learn a lot."
He made it sound casual, but in reality, even getting the chance to assist at such a top-tier research facility was a dream for many students in the field.
But since Wei Hanyun phrased it so lightly, Zhong Ziyan—who wasn’t particularly knowledgeable about scientific research—took it at face value. She turned to Sheng Jiayan and asked, "Do you want to go?"
Sheng Jiayan nodded silently.
Since her second cash cow was willing, Zhong Ziyan naturally didn’t mind having one more person on the private jet. Her attention was already fully captured by the One-77.
The completely transformed black-and-gold Aston Martin was being carefully unloaded from the plane.
Given the car’s size, it couldn’t fit on Zhong Ziyan’s smaller jet, so they had borrowed one of Wei Hanyun’s Boeing planes to transport it.
"Race track. You coming?" Zhong Ziyan politely asked Sheng Jiayan.
Though men tended to be car enthusiasts from a young age, Sheng Jiayan just shook his head indifferently, showing no trace of interest.
"Then do you need anything?" Zhong Ziyan pressed.
Sheng Jiayan pulled out a thick notebook from his backpack and signed a few gestures, indicating he still had calculations to work on.
Zhong Ziyan glanced at his somewhat battered notebook and decided she couldn’t let her cash cow suffer like this. "I’ll get you a proper new computer first. It’ll be much easier to organize data with digital input."
Sheng Jiayan hesitated before nodding.
Zhong Ziyan felt she should properly settle her newly arrived cash cow, but the sight of the freshly customized sports car made it hard to tear herself away. In the end, she summoned the hotel’s private concierge to arrange a separate room for Sheng Jiayan, along with a sign language interpreter for assistance, and placed an order for a brand-new set of digital equipment.
The concierge noted everything down and guided Sheng Jiayan away.
Zhong Ziyan eagerly pulled open the Aston Martin’s door and casually remarked to Sheng Jiayan, "The haircut suits you."
At the entrepreneurship competition, Sheng Jiayan had looked like a gloomy shut-in who hadn’t cut his hair in a year. Now, his hair was cropped short, almost like a buzz cut, revealing his pale skin and thick, dark eyebrows.
Sheng Jiayan: "..." He bowed slightly to Wei Hanyun beside Zhong Ziyan, then followed the concierge into the hotel, carrying nothing but his backpack.
Leaning against the car door, Zhong Ziyan watched with concern. "We should buy him some new clothes and shoes on the way back. How does this kid live like this?"
Wei Hanyun had already opened the passenger-side door. "His parents passed away early. He’s lived on scholarships alone until now—he’s far more capable than you think."
Zhong Ziyan: "..." Fair enough.
Setting aside her unnecessary worries, she slid into the driver’s seat and swiftly fastened her seatbelt before turning to Wei Hanyun.
Wei Hanyun chuckled, buckling his own seatbelt with one hand while pulling up the navigation on his phone with the other.
This had almost become their routine.
The moment the navigation voice chimed, Zhong Ziyan licked her lips and slammed her foot on the accelerator.
But she didn’t forget they were still in the city, so she cautiously kept the speed five miles below the limit.
Fortunately, the race track wasn’t far—Las Vegas wasn’t that big of a city—and they arrived quickly.
Some tourists were already there, paying to experience the thrill of driving a sports car on the track. Before getting behind the wheel, however, they had to undergo safety training, and once in the car, a professional racer would sit in the passenger seat with a secondary brake—just like in driving school.
Zhong Ziyan had arranged things through the concierge, so the track staff knew to expect her. After a quick check-in, the track was cleared for her use.
The people at this race track were either professionals or semi-professionals with real knowledge of cars, or amateur racing enthusiasts.
Either way, the sight of the repainted Aston Martin drew awed stares.
A few tourists in the middle of safety training even whipped out their phones to snap pictures.
Zhong Ziyan swung the car onto the track, hitting 200 mph within seconds.
There weren’t many cars on the track, but a few were present.
Some were clearly rented by inexperienced drivers, their movements shaky and uncertain. Others, like Zhong Ziyan, were there for the speed. One car in particular deliberately swerved in front of her, blocking her path.
Zhong Ziyan glanced at the license plate and smirked.
Wasn’t this the same reckless kid who had tried to cut off their limo last night?
If they’d never crossed paths again, Zhong Ziyan wouldn’t have cared what this brat got up to in his free time. But since he’d bumped into her twice now, it felt only right to teach him a lesson.
If the heavens won’t tolerate you, who can you blame?
As the saying goes, a good car is nothing without a good driver.
Zhong Ziyan tailed the Ferrari down a straightaway, waiting for the curve ahead. She glanced at Wei Hanyun and grinned. "Hold on."
Wei Hanyun calmly gripped the handle above his door.
As the Ferrari slowed to take the turn, Zhong Ziyan twisted the wheel and cut inside along the inner lane.
The young man in the Ferrari instinctively swerved to dodge, but in that split second, Zhong Ziyan effortlessly took the inside lane, executing a hair-raising curve before speeding off into the distance.
The Ferrari driver, flustered and panicked, ended up stalled on the track.
Cursing under his breath, the owner slammed the steering wheel before hastily restarting the engine, determined to chase after her and reclaim his dignity. But things weren’t so easy—within just two laps, Zhong Ziyan had caught up from behind again.
This time, the Ferrari driver’s composure shattered completely. Zhong Ziyan overtook him effortlessly on the straightaway, the side mirrors of the Aston Martin and Ferrari grazing past each other with less than a centimeter to spare—far more audacious than his stunt the night before.
The Ferrari screeched to a halt, leaving long, dark skid marks on the asphalt, its driver clearly pushed past his limits.
Zhong Ziyan glanced at the rearview mirror and arched a brow.
I was racing and shooting in infinite worlds before you were even born, kid.
After thoroughly humbling the overconfident young man, Zhong Ziyan turned to Wei Hanyun with polite concern. "Feeling dizzy?"
Wei Hanyun remained perfectly composed. "I think we should attend an F1 championship sometime. Their skills might not even compare to yours."
Zhong Ziyan waved off the praise modestly. "Oh, hardly."
The high-speed thrill didn’t last long. By the time Zhong Ziyan left the racetrack, it was nearly midnight. She made sure to exchange a few words with the track manager before departing.
"We’re just glad you enjoyed yourself," the manager said humbly, smiling. "Your driving puts even a professional like me to shame."
"Thank you," Zhong Ziyan replied, far more reserved with outsiders’ flattery.
Just as she and Wei Hanyun were about to get into the car, distant screams and the roar of an engine cut through the night.
Zhong Ziyan looked up—the familiar Ferrari was barreling toward them at full speed, showing no signs of slowing down. It was clear the driver intended to ram straight into the Aston Martin.
Zhong Ziyan: "?" You dare touch my custom gold-plated car? You’re done.
She shoved Wei Hanyun toward a safe spot, then casually pulled something from her pocket—snapping it in half with a flick of her wrist before tossing it with barely noticeable precision.
The object shot straight through both of the Ferrari’s rear tires.
The deafening sound of high-speed blowouts echoed across the track as the Ferrari spun out of control, swerving wildly.
Amid the chaos of screams, Zhong Ziyan sprinted forward to intercept the careening car. With one hand, she pressed against the hood, absorbing most of the impact force, then reached through the window and yanked the driver out single-handedly.
Without acceleration, the car lurched sideways past Zhong Ziyan before slamming into a barrier with a deafening crash.
Under normal circumstances, it might have exploded—but Zhong Ziyan’s earlier intervention had reduced its speed by at least 150 mph. The collision only left the front bumper mangled beyond recognition.
Meanwhile, the young driver, now face-down on the ground under Zhong Ziyan’s grip, thrashed and spewed curses. "Let me go, you—[expletive]—!"
Pinning him down was as easy as restraining a kitten.
Leaning closer, Zhong Ziyan asked in a low voice, "You wanted to hit my car?"
"So what if I did? My family’s loaded—I can afford it!" the young man spat, face red with fury.
"No, you can’t," Zhong Ziyan said darkly. "That’s my one-of-a-kind golden treasure." And I’ve only driven it once since the gold plating!
Without hesitation, she planted a curse in his mind—one that would haunt him with nightmares of being hit by cars every single day. By then, Wei Hanyun’s bodyguards had rushed over, professionally restraining the young man’s arms behind his back.
Then Zhong Ziyan heard Wei Hanyun call her name from behind.
"Zhong Ziyan."
—It was the first time he’d ever used her full name.
She turned around in surprise. Wei Hanyun wasn’t standing in the safe zone she’d pushed him to—instead, he was just a step or two away, his gaze heavy as it bore into her.
His usually gentle brows were slightly furrowed, his lips—normally curved in a composed smile—now pressed into a thin line. Whether it was the night’s shadows or something else, even his eyes seemed darker than usual.
"Did you not realize how dangerous that was?" he asked.
"But I put you somewhere safe," Zhong Ziyan answered, bewildered.
Even if the car had exploded, Wei Hanyun’s position would have been one of the most shielded.
Wei Hanyun exhaled, rubbing his temples.
A few seconds later, he extended his right hand. "Come here."
Zhong Ziyan didn’t move. Instead, she carefully placed a handmade candy—snagged from the restaurant earlier—into his palm. "Don’t be angry."
Wei Hanyun’s expression remained unreadable. "Tell me why I’m angry."
Zhong Ziyan thought for a moment, then, with visible difficulty, reached into her pocket and gave him another candy.
Wei Hanyun: "…"
